


A Year to Remember

by Iridalmenie



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All of the companions - Freeform, Crack, Gen, The Golden Trio hardly get mentioned, but it was fun to write, this doesn't make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iridalmenie/pseuds/Iridalmenie
Summary: On the way to Hogwarts, several first years find themselves with more memories than they made in the past 11 years.
Relationships: DW Canon-compliant relationships
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little story that I thought up last weekend, which then begged to be written. I might extend it with how Harry's first year might have changed with so many people used to dangerous adventures running around, if the inspiration hits me. I didn't want to wait for that to already post the story. I'm making it 2 chapters because it was long enough, so we haven't seen everyone yet!
> 
> I don't make any money from this, please don't sue me. Doctor Who property of BBC Wales, Harry Potter property of a controversial person.

The train snaked its way through the countryside, as indeed it did every 1st of September. It looked old-fashioned; a red steam engine that might belong more in a museum than on a track. And yet it shone as if new, gleaming in the sunlight. Within its carriages, students were chattering excitedly, some catching up with their friends after the long summer holiday, others making the journey for the first time. All were eager to arrive at their destination, as well they might be. Going to a school for witchcraft and wizardry was something not many people could boast, and this year was shaping up to be an eventful one, even if nobody suspected it just yet. Nobody except several first-years, who were getting their first hints that not everything was as it should be...

***

Rose groaned. She had the mother of all headaches, and the pounding was not at all helped by the rythmic clanging of trainwheels. She frowned, without opening her eyes. Something was wrong. Stop; rewind; retrace her steps. A call had come through to Torchwood, a request for backup from one of their agents. Really, she and John were getting too old for field-work like this, but nobody else had been available, so they had responded. As it turned out, the agent had uncovered a Zygon sleeper cell.

For a while, things had been like old times – Rose and John, defending an Earth that had been their home for many years now, even if neither of them had been born to it. When John had first arrived, he'd decided that while he might have the Doctor's memories, he was a different man now, and had chosen an alias to reflect that: John Noble. It had been a time of adjustments for all of them, but they'd made it work.

But then, in the ensuing battle, one of the Zygons had shot a bolt of energy at her, which had hit her in the head. That would explain the splitting headache, but it did not in the least tell her why she was sitting on a moving train. Carefully opening her eyes just a fraction, so she wouldn't be too bothered by the sunlight, she looked at the rest of the compartment. She saw four young girls talking amongst each other. At a guess, she'd say they looked about fourteen or fifteen years old. Across from her, an even younger boy was sitting, maybe 11 years old? And he was looking right at her with concern in his eyes.

“Are you ok?” he asked when he noticed her looking. “I thought you'd fallen asleep, but then you started groaning. Bad dream?”

She sat up a bit straighter and tried to open her eyes to properly look at the boy, but the movement only worsened the pounding, so she screwed her eyes shut again and grabbed her aching head with both her hands.

“Sorry. Ow. Headache.”

Uhm. Ok. That sounded a lot higher than she was used to. Something was definitely off. 

“Oh, hold on. I've got something for that.”

She cranked open one eye to watch the boy dig into a pocket. He took out a small white box. She couldn't see exactly what was in there, but he offered her a blue pill.

“Here, this should help. Uhm. Do you have water to wash it down with? If not, you can have some of mine.”

“Oh ta, you're a lifesaver. I don't have any water, no.”

It would be more accurate to say she didn't know if she had any water, but she didn't think that was something the boy needed to hear. She'd have to figure out at some point where she was going, and why there didn't seem to be any adults on the train. And, you know, how she got here. 

The boy obligingly handed her his own bottle, so she popped the pill into her mouth and followed it up with a swig of water.

“Just sit back and let it do its work. The headache should go away in a minute or so. Do you often have headaches like that?”

She almost shook her head, but the pill hadn't taken just yet, so she settled for a verbal answer. “No. I don't know where this one came from. Thanks for the...” she gestured vaguely with her hand, but her brain still felt sluggish.

The boy laughed, so he evidently understood what she meant. Thankfully he kept quiet for a while. She sat with her eyes closed, waiting for the hammer inside her skull to stop its relentless pounding. Gradually the ache lessened, and as it did something niggled at her. Like there was something she ought to remember, but didn't. 

Finally she managed to open her eyes completely. “Good stuff you have there. Thanks again. I can think! My name is Rose Tyler.”

“Rory Williams. So, looking forward to Hogwarts then?”

And there it was, the thing she'd been forgetting. She forced herself to smile and answer in the affirmative, even as a whole flood of information overwhelmed her. 

She was 11 years old, born in 1980. Throughout her childhood, strange inexplicable things would happen, until one day she'd been visited by a stern woman who told her about a school for magic, which she was allowed to attend because she was a 'muggleborn', meaning she had magic while her parents didn't. Or at least her mum didn't, she'd never known her dad.

They'd gone to Diagon Alley and purchased everything off the list – most of it second-hand, since they weren't rolling in money and these school supplies were quite an investment. The only new thing they bought was a wand – an actual wand! Soon after, it was the 1st of September, she'd boarded the Hogwarts Express, and here she was.

Was she Rose Tyler, Defender of Earth, born in 1987, who met the Doctor, travelled in time and space, and got exiled to a parallel universe where eventually she married a man who looked like but wasn't really the Doctor?

Or was she Rose Tyler, muggleborn witch, born in 1980, on her way to Hogwarts?

The two sets of memories warred within her head, until she slammed a steel box around both of them. She'd sort out the question when she was alone. Right now, she had a conversation to concentrate on.

***

She couldn't know that a similar identity crisis was going on in her companion's head. Rory had actually gained his second set of memories at the very start of the journey. Just as he'd found a seat opposite a blonde girl, he was hit by a dizzy spell. When it passed, he wasn't just another first year travelling to Hogwarts. He was also a man known in one aborted timeline as the Last Centurion, married the love of his life, and eventually found himself settled in New York years before he was born. He remembered achieving his dream of becoming a doctor, although he never forgot his nursing roots – even in this new world, apparently. Even as a child he'd always insisted on a portable medical kit.

His current working theory was that he'd died, again, and his mind had been transported to this body much in the same way he'd become the Last Centurion. He'd checked quickly, but at least there was no gun in his hand, so that was something. He'd thought he'd left his dying days behind him when they'd settled in 1938 New York, but apparently not. The only thing that was still in question was whether Amy was here or not. If she was, he'd find her. He always did.

***

As they talked, a girl wandered past. She glanced at the compartment's occupants, apparently looking for someone, and when she didn't recognise anyone, she moved on.

Yasmin Khan, Yaz to her friends, had closed her eyes in her room in Sheffield, and had woken up on a train, remembering a life without the Doctor and a life with the Doctor. She still didn't know exactly what had happened after they'd left the Doctor on Gallifrey with a Death Particle strapped to a bomb. Ko Sharmus had followed the Doctor out, but had both of them died? Had only one of them? The TARDIS the Doctor had programmed for them had dropped them off back home months ago, and she hadn't visited since. Now they had a working TARDIS, disguised as a house, and none of them knew how to pilot it. 

Perhaps she ought to accept that the Doctor really was dead, but there was a stubborn little voice in her head (with a suspiciously Northern accent) that kept hoping. The Doctor was an expert in these last-minute hopeless situations. She might have escaped. Ko Sharmus might have bought her just enough time. 

However the case may be, Yaz hadn't yet had an adventure without Ryan and Graham beside her, providing a running commentary on the proceedings. Perhaps it was an idle hope, but she had to check if they were here. Whatever had brought her here might well have brought them as well. She had trouble imagining Graham as an 11-year-old, but...

Wait. She'd been so focused on the Doctor, there was something she'd overlooked in her other set of memories, the ones that told her she was in the right place, because this was where her life had been leading. The life where her nani Umbreen had been a respected witch in her home country of India, and then after the Partition in Pakistan, until she'd moved to Sheffield. There she'd broken with the wizarding world when her son turned out to be a squib. Rather than cast him out, as so many Pureblood families did, she'd opted to raise him in a way that ensured his success in the muggle world.

When her granddaughters did turn out to have magic, she'd opened cautious channels back to the wizarding world, but she'd still insisted that Yaz and Sonya would receive a decent education before attending Hogwarts, so they'd been enrolled in Redlands Primary... where a boy named Ryan Sinclair likewise attended!

She'd paused between two carriages as she followed the memory to its logical conclusion. Then she started again, with renewed hope. How big were the chances there were two Ryan Sinclairs running around Redlands, one up to 1990 and the other up to 2008? No, it had to be her Ryan, and so he must have magic too. She didn't allow for any other possibility.

She struck gold two carriages on. She was near the back of the train, where the compartments were less densely populated, mostly because the people who'd found a place here had gone in search of their friends. 

In this one, a lone boy was sitting, staring forlornly out the window. 

“Oh, thank god.” Yaz breathed out in relief, before plopping down opposite the black boy. 

He looked at her quizzically, as if he didn't recognise her. Then, cautiously: “Yasmin Khan? We went to school together, didn't we?”

Yaz felt herself grow cold. Had she been wrong? He looked like Ryan, and obviously he remembered their school in this timeline. But no Doctor? No TARDIS adventures? Was he not her friend after all?

Then it happened.

“Wow!” Ryan yelled as something seemed to hit him, although Yaz didn't see anything. He grabbed his armrests and shook his head, and then his eyes focused on her.

“Yaz? What... what happened? Why are we on a train? And why are you looking so young?”

Yaz laughed in relief. She had not been wrong! She got up and hugged him. He hugged back willingly enough, though he was still looking confused. 

“Oh Ryan, am I glad to see you! I don't know what happened, but we're on a train on our way to Hogwarts to learn magic. Give it a moment, you'll remember your other lifetime where this is a logical sentence to hear. Now we just have to find Graham, I've only searched about half of the train. If this, whatever it is, happened to both of us, it's likely it happened to him too. We'll give you a chance to recover, and then we'll go look the other way.”

They spent the time speculating about what might have happened, but they were no closer to an answer when another student stuck his head inside.

“'Ello there, loves! I knew I'd find ya somewhere on this train.”

Yaz and Ryan looked up at the same time, and burst out laughing. 

“Oh god, Graham, look at you! Righ little heartbreaker, aren't you?”

Yaz was right. With his light blue eyes and dark hair, combined with a youthful face, he looked much more angelic than he actually was. He preened a little at her words.

“Different from Silver Fox, innit? So,” he said as he stepped fully into the compartment, “what are the chances of this having to do with the Doc?”

***

Bill Potts stared out the window at the passing countryside. As usual, her head was filled to the brim with questions. Foremost of which... what happened? She had too many memories, that was the problem. She could remember growing up – twice. She remembered travelling with the Doctor. Then she'd become a cyberman, than a... whatever Heather had been, a Pilot for lack of a better word. She could even remember being a person made of glass, her memories extracted at the moment of her death. Only those were her memories up to finding the Doctor lying in the midst of the carnage he'd inflicted on the Cyberman army and then bringing him to his TARDIS. Her Testimony memories stopped there and then started again when she stepped forward in answer to the Doctor's demands, on the Testimony ship, when they were trying to entice him to give up the Captain they'd lost. Inbetween that, she had her memories of being a Pilot, but the Testimony didn't have those. 

And now yet another set of memories had been added to that, where she was 11 years old and a witch. Best of all though, her mum was still alive in this timeline! She didn't know who she should thank for her good fortune, but grateful she was. 

Still, though. What had happened? Was the Doctor involved? Was Heather? Was this an alternate universe, and if so how did she end up with all those memories from another life? Was she still travelling with Heather somewhere? She might be, since she didn't remember exactly what she'd been doing before coming to this universe. But if that was the case, how did she now have memories both of Heather and of the Testimony?

“You're deep in thought.”

Bill glanced up when someone spoke to her. She saw a girl her own (current) age, with brown hair down to her shoulders, brown eyes, cute button nose and a mischievous smile. She straightened up a bit.

“Yeah, sorry. Just... remembering. It's something else, though, isn't it? Hogwarts?”

“I know, right? Magic!”

“You're... what did they call it again... muggleborn too?”

“Sure am. Nobody magical in my family, except me. Clara Oswald, at your service.”

“Bill Potts, nice to meet you.”

Bill bit her lip. That name rang a bell, but why? When had she heard it before? Too many damn memories! Oh well, she'd figure it out at a quieter time.

“So, where are you from, Bill Potts?”

Bill sat back. Was Clara... flirting? A smile spread. Flirting, she could do. 

***

Clara smiled back at Bill. She was interesting, that was for sure. She was sure she'd be having a great time at Hogwarts regardless, but if there were more people there like Bill, it would be even better.

Of course, best of all was the fact that she had a heartbeat. It'd be a long time before she took that for granted again. She'd had a good run, really. First with the Doctor, and then after he'd extracted her in the second before her death and she'd had to make him forget her, with Ashildr. 

But she'd grown tired, and she'd felt it had been time to return, so that the universe wouldn't collapse. She'd stepped back into her place, watching again as the Raven flew at her...

And the next thing she knew, here she was, with a whole new set of memories next to the old. She assumed her mission was successful, since the universe was still very much alive around her, and she herself was too. Properly alive, too, not just living on borrowed time.

It wasn't even that her body had been plucked out of that time and put down in this one, no, she'd actually been born again, and grown up much the same as she had the first time, only with magic added. Something else, indeed. She was going to enjoy this so, so much.

***

And so, the train drew into Hogsmeade Station, as it did every time it made its run. The doors opened, and the whole population of Hogwarts streamed out, dressed in their Hogwarts uniform. Second-years and up aimed for the carriages, leaving the first-years to look around awkwardly.

One of them, a tall girl with long red hair, was waiting for something, or someone. It annoyed her, because she'd forgotten who she was waiting for, and she was normally good at remembering.

Just as a giant of a man began calling for the first years to follow him, a hand slipped into hers. She looked to the side, to shaggy sandy hair and loving eyes, and just like that her world was complete again, including a host of memories.

“Took your stupid face long enough,” she said.

Rory just grinned, and together they followed the giant.

***

A bit further on the platform, another scene was playing out. Mickey Smith had been wondering if he was going mad. Had he really travelled with an alien and Rose, then lived in another universe for a while, then come back to his original universe to continue fighting the good fight? Was he even an 11-year-old on the way to a castle where he'd be learning magic? Both sounded equally fantastical, and since he had both stories in his head, he thought maybe he'd been in an accident and was lying in a hospital in a coma, dreaming up both scenarios.

“Mickey?” a girl asked behind him.

… Or not.

He turned around, and there was Rose Tyler. Tiny, compared to the last time he'd seen her. A child, but unmistakeably her. So, he was definitely standing on a train station (according to the surreptitious pinch he gave himself), and Rose had been similarly de-aged to himself. Which meant, if he had any luck whatsoever...

“Oh my god!” someone behind Rose said. She was pushed aside, and a shape flung itself at him. He caught her, as he had done so many times before. “You're here!” the figure said. “Thank god!” She let go, and he could finally see her face – so young, and yet definitely her. 

“Same!” he said. “I thought I was going mad!”

She took his hand and started dragging him away. “Come on, first years have to follow that man.”

Mickey had already taken two steps in the same direction as Martha when he realised Rose wasn't following. He half turned back to her, but it was clear most of his attention was on the girl holding his hand.

“Coming, Rose?” he asked.

She shook her head from where she'd been rooted to the spot. “No, you go ahead. I'll be right behind you.”

***

She watched them go, unsure of what she'd expected. For one, she had not expected anyone who remembered her to be on that train, and if she had, it wouldn't have been Mickey.

And even if she had expected Mickey... it was silly, really. For one moment she'd thought they'd fall back into their old habits, where Mickey would put her in first place, no matter how long she left him behind. But that was ridiculous. She'd moved on, and obviously so had he.

Still, though, that was definitely Mickey, he remembered her, and... had that been Martha?

“So at least three people with two remembered lives,” she muttered, not seeing the girl who'd been watching her. There was no other explanation, the way he'd reacted to Martha spoke of long familiarity. Question was, had they become friends in that time after she'd gone back to her adoptive universe? Or more?

She looked up when an arm slipped through hers, and realised she was among the last stragglers on the platform. Someone was pulling her towards where the first years were following a bobbing light, with gentle but insistent pressure. She looked at the girl who was dragging her, and felt her eyes widen.

***

Like Bill, Donna found herself on a train with more memories than she knew what to do with. There was one life where she was a witch – and how that had delighted her gramps and horrified her mum! – and on her way to Hogwarts to learn how to do magic. There was another where she'd grown up normally, had to apply for a job and had followed her mother's suggestion of becoming a secretary, leading to a dystopian world where nothing was as it should be, until finally the stars were going out. She'd fixed it, but at such a cost to herself. 

There was what she considered her actual life, where she'd followed her own heart instead of her mother's suggestion, and so had met the Doctor, let him go, then found him a second time and travelled and ran with him – really, an outrageous amount of running, as she'd told his daughter once.

Eventually she'd become the DoctorDonna, a state of being her human brain could not keep up with. She'd had to forget the Doctor if she was going to survive, living life to the best of her ability while missing a huge part of who she'd become. She had no idea how she'd ended up here, but whatever it was had given her brain the capacity it needed for the DoctorDonna. Meaning, not only did she have all of her own memories back, she had the Doctor's as well, up to the human – Time Lord metacrisis. She'd have to sort everything out at some point, but that would have to wait for a quieter time.

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station, she got off but kept her eyes peeled. She had no evidence to suggest anyone who knew the Doctor was here, but still she watched.

She was rewarded when close to her, she heard a girl say, “Mickey?”, at which point the boy she addressed was tackled by a second girl. She'd only seen a glimpse of the second girl, but that was definitely a young-looking Marthe, and she'd last seen Mickey just before her memory loss, when they were towing the Earth back home.

She'd catch up with them – after all, they all seemed to be heading to the same place. Her focus now was on the blonde Mickey had left behind. She wasn't making a move, even though the platform was nearly empty.

Donna was just close enough to hear her mutter about three people with two lives. She had more lives in her head, but well... that was courtesy of the fortune teller and other assorted adventures.

She linked her arm with Rose's and started pulling her towards where a giant man was leading the first years into the darkness. She didn't much fancy getting left behind.

When Rose noticed her face, she winked.

“Donna?”

“The very same. Hello Rose. For the record... there's at least four of us. Chances are, there'll be more, but we're here for the coming ten months. I'm sure we'll be able to identify everyone... eventually.”

Rose blinked at her in the darkness, and then a wide smiel blossomed on her face.

“Ok. One step at a time?”

“Yes. Together.”

***

Soon, everyone was sitting in little boats floating towards their home for the coming ten months. After they docked, they were ushered towards the castle proper, where they were welcomed by a stern witch in emerald-green robes. Some students had already met her, as she was usually the one to talk to muggleborns.

The whole group was taken to a small chamber, where the witch, professor McGonagall, explained to them what the houses were called, how they were supposed to be like family, and how students were supposed to earn house points (be good). Well, she was hardly going to give her blessing to break all the rules, was she?

A short time later, they were all standing in a line in front of the school, paying attention to... a singing hat. Because why not.

And then the Sorting began. One by one the students were called up, placed the Hat on their head, and were Sorted into one of the four houses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting Hat has some problems...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the rest! I think I added all of the NewWho companions? At least the ones who made more than one appearance. I guess technically I could have added Wilf, but I had to stop somewhere ;)

Jack stood still as he watched excitable 11-year-olds getting called up. He was good at that, standing still. Sometimes in his long life he felt as if that was all he ever did, standing still, while everyone else moved around him. The alternative was forming bonds, but that way inevitably lay heartbreak, when the people he loved grew old and died, and left him behind.

He was still confused about how he'd gotten to be here, but, well... magic. Who knows what might have happened?

Last thing he remembered, he'd been a couple of galaxies over from the one containing Earth, and many, MANY years into the future. He'd lived through all of them. He'd been out delivering supplies to a colony world when his instruments had malfunctioned. The resulting planetside crash would've killed him. If, you know, he managed to stay dead. He hadn't yet.

But instead of waking up amidst the wreckage of his ship, as he would have expected, he'd been on a train, in a body that belonged in this world, but that was TINY compared to the one he'd spent countless centuries in.

He'd spent his formative years in an orphanage, charming the pants off everyone he met as soon as he could talk. People often wondered how it could be that he wasn't immediately adopted, but somehow it never quite worked out. Still, that suited him just fine at the moment. With all these extra memories, he didn't really want a family to worry about.

He needed to figure out two things: one, what had happened, and two, was he still a fixed point? Or could he die now?

A 'Granger, Hermione' was Sorted into Gryffindor, meaning it was almost his turn.

Sure enough, a moment later McGonagall called 'Harkness, Jack'. Funny how that worked out, in this world that was his real name, rather than an alias he'd grown into.

He walked towards the stool, where he sat down facing tables filled with students. He didn't see several faces in the line behind him perking up at his name.

When the Hat was placed on his head, a voice sounded in his mind. 

“What's this then? You're not 11... and yet you are. Hmm, a puzzle, that.”

“Oh!” he thought back at the voice. “Not just a singing Hat, but a psychic one as well? Well, hello there! I'm Captain Jack Harkness.”

“What? In all my years... ahem. I can't say I've ever been flirted with.”

“First time for everything,” Jack answered with a grin. 

“Yes, well. Be that as it may, I do need to Sort you.”

The Hat sounded slightly flustered, so Jack counted that a win.

“Plenty of courage, I can see that. Smart, too, though perhaps not really one for the books? But there's more... you're rather ruthless, when you need to be. The pragmatic leader, the one to make the tough decisions. Yes... better be SLYTHERIN!”

The last word was shouted out loud. He swept the Hat off his head with a theatrical bow before placing it back on the stool. It wasn't until he'd sat down at the silver and green table that he saw them – a redhead and a blonde, next to a black boy and girl standing hand in hand, all four waving excitedly at him. The redhead gave him a thumbs-up, and Jack smiled widely and sent a wink their way. Well, well... Rose and Donna, Mickey and Martha. This year was shaping up to be rather interesting, wasn't it?

***

'Jones, Martha' was the next name to be called. Mickey gave her hand a squeeze before letting go, and Martha walked forward.

So, it wasn't just her that had ended up in this magical world, as she had feared for a while. Mickey was here, her Mickey. They'd seen Rose and Donna in the antechamber, and now Jack! This was shaping up to be quite the reunion. 

“Oh, another one?” a voice said. “You're not going to flirt with me, are you?”

Martha grinned. Sounded like Jack had turned up the charm. “No, don't worry. That's just Jack's way. Don't pay attention to him.”

“Hmm, very well. Lets see... you could do well in Gryffindor. But no... I think the house for you is RAVENCLAW!”

Martha jumped up and gave the Hat back, before joining the blue-and-bronze table. She waved at Mickey, who grinned at her, and then paid attention to the Sorting again.

***

'Khan, Yasmin', professor McGonagall said. Ryan pushed his shoulder against hers, and Graham gave her a little push in the back. “Good luck!” one of them whispered. It didn't matter who'd said it, since they were all thinking it.

Once she was sitting on the stool, she heard a sigh in her head. Which was decidedly odd. The sigh was followed by a voice. “How many of you grown-up 11-year-olds are there? Oh well, here we go...”

She wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next, but after a moment the Hat yelled 'RAVENCLAW' without saying another word to her. 

As she sat down next to her predecessor, giving her a friendly smile, she wondered at the Hat's words. So they weren't the only ones with several lives? She'd have to investigate, it meant at least one person before her was more than they appeared to be. She already knew which person was her first suspect, too. That warning about the Lone Cyberman, that had been given by a Captain Jack Harkness, and the boy they'd seen did look kind of like the man who'd scooped them. 

She'd have to talk to him fairly soon. Not tonight, though. There was still a Sorting to focus on, and she wanted to see which house the other two would end up in. 

***

Neville Longbottom was never sure why the first thing the Hat said to him was “Thank Merlin!”, before proceeding to Sort him into Gryffindor.

***

Malfoy and Moon went to Slytherin, and then there was a pause. Everybody looked at McGonagall, wondering why she wasn't continuing her call. She was looking at the scroll in her hand quizzically, then visibly shook her head. “Nardole!” she called. Bill, standing next to Clara, squealed. 

“Oh, come on, that's not fair! You weren't even human!” the Hat told the somewhat silly-looking boy as it sat on his bald head. 

Nardole grinned. He might not have been human in his previous life, but he'd led a human enough life on a spaceship trying to escape a black hole. Well, human enough if you discounted the fact that he'd lived to the ripe old age of 728. He was very carefully not thinking about how he knew that. 

“Ugh, fine. RAVENCLAW!”

***

Malfoy and Moon went to Slytherin, and then it was Donna's turn. 

“Argh! You people! Stop giving me a headache. You have too many memories!”

“Oi, sunshine! 's not like I bloody asked for this! Just tell me my house so I can take my memories away from your snit!”

“Whatever. GRYFFINDOR!”

Donna took off the Hat. She hadn't meant to snap at it, but well. That was just rude.

***

After Nott it was 'O'Brien, Graham'. He felt like he'd had a new lease on life. He was in an 11-year-old body that had never known cancer, in a school to learn magic... and Grace was still alive. Ryan had already warned him away from her, since he didn't much fancy a gramps the same age he was. Truthfully, he wasn't planning on approaching her. She wasn't his Grace, and it'd be a bit creepy. But it was good to know she was alive.

The Hat was placed on his head. He didn't hear anything spoken to him, but he did get a definite sulky feeling. He wondered what that was about. After a moment the Hat yelled “HUFFLEPUFF!” Oh well, who knew with magical hats anyway. He made his way to the table on the far left.

***

'Oswald, Clara' was next. She waved at Bill before walking towards the stool and the Hat. 

“Oh well,” a voice in her mind said. She assumed it was the Hat talking. If it could have, it'd have shrugged. “I'll go with it. Sulking didn't help, you people just keep coming. I'll just keep a tally. Now, let me see... Hmm. Mind like yours, you could do well in Slytherin, but as a muggleborn you'd have a much harder time than some of your peers in that house.”

“What are they gonna do, kill me?” she thought back at the Hat.

“Probably not, miss Oswald, but they can make your life quite difficult. You might get bullied.”

“Eh, I eat bullies for breakfast. If it's the best place for me, go ahead.”

“Very well then. SLYTHERIN!”

***

'Pond, Amelia'. Rory let go of her hand and gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled at him and walked over to be Sorted. 

“Hmm. Another mind best suited for Slytherin, but with the same problem as your predecessor. Are you also unafraid of bullies, miss Pond? If so, might I suggest an alliance with miss Oswald and mister Harkness? Maybe, just maybe, you will be what the house needs. A wake-up call, if you will.”

Amy walked over to the Slytherin table, where her welcome was as lukewarm as Clara's had been. She ignored the hostile stares and plopped herself down between Harkness and Oswald. 

“You will never guess what the Hat told me!”

Oswald was looking consideringly at her. “You're Amelia, right? Sorry, have we met? You look sort of familiar.”

“Amy, actually, and... I don't think so? Anyway, the Hat told me the three of us should form an alliance, so the bullies don't get a chance. Well, I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of it.”

“Amy, Amy... wait, I know! Petrichor, for the girl who's tired of waiting! That's who you remind me of!”

Amy turned fully towards Clara, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”

“I said, Petri...chor... that hasn't happened yet, has it. Damn, me and my big mouth.”

“No, it hasnt, Oswald. But what if I told you... I know what you're talking about?”

Harkness laughed. “Looks like that alliance is a near certainty, ladies. I suggest we talk more after the Sorting.”

“You're right,” Oswald agreed. “My new friend is almost up.”

But before Bill, there was 'Potter, Harry'. A wave of whispers travelled from one side of the Hall to the other, and many people were trying to get a good look at the scrawny black-haired boy who was approaching the Sorting Hat. Oswald and Harkness looked at each other, than at Amy.

“Any idea what that's about?” Oswald asked. Amy shook her head. “No, but I'm guessing the kid's famous.”

“We'll find oud. Without drawing a mark on our backs for ignorance, so we're not asking that lot.” Harkness jerked his head to the other Slytherins, most of whom were craning their necks to see. Amy wondered if they knew how idiotic they looked.

When he was Sorted into Gryffindor, most of their table sat back down, rolling their eyes and muttering something along the lines of 'Typical', while the Gryffindors were clapping and cheering. “We got Potter, we got Potter!” two redheads were singing.

“Poor kid,” Harkness muttered. Amy couldn't help but agree. No pressure, or anything.

***

Then it was Bill's turn. Before the Hat was even in place, the questions were already filling her head.

“A singing hat? How does that work? Is it enchanted? And how does it Sort us? What's the deal with those houses anyway? Give children a magic stick and then tell them all the ways they're different from that other group of kids? Yeah, good idea, that's totally not how radicalisation works or anything.”

“RAVENCLAW!” she heard the Hat yell.

Huh, that was quick. What it did base that on? Could it hear her thoughts?

“Yes, miss Potts, I CAN hear your thoughts. Please take me off, your questions are giving me even more of a headache. And no, you may NOT ask how a hat gets a headache!”

Huh, ok then. She took it off and went to the Ravenclaw table with a half smile on her face, winking at Clara along the way. When she sat down, it was next to the bald boy who apparently had only one name. Her half smile grew into a full one. “Hug?” she said. 

“Hug,” he answered. She deliberately kept a lid on her questions (such as, what was his last memory, did he remember Testimony the way she did, was he human now, and so on). She'd ask them at some point, but right now she was just happy to see a familiar face. There was no way he didn't remember the Doctor.

***

“Sinclair, Ryan,” McGonagall said next. He could see Yaz grinning at him from the Ravenclaw table, and Graham waved at him from Hufflepuff. He was still getting used to seeing the man so young. He'd never known Graham as a young man, obviously, since he hadn't been born yet at the time. And now, when he'd finally accepted him as his gramps, they'd somehow ended up born in the same year!

He'd noticed some people were under the Hat only for a second, while others needed a minute or two before they were Sorted. He wondered how long he'd need.

“Hmm,” a voice sounded in his head. “Bit of a toss-up between two houses for you. Quite a lot of loyalty there, yes, and you are not afraid of hard work. Impressive determination you have, young man, you would do Hufflepuff proud. But you also have no lack of courage. I think you would be a good match for GRYFFINDOR!”

Ryan grinned and waved at the applause he received, before sitting down next to a bunch of redheads. 

***

'Smith, Mickey' was next. He bumped his elbow against Rose's for old time's sake, and went forward. He could hope for Ravenclaw to be with his wife, but he didn't think so. He wasn't stupid by any means, but he wasn't nearly as much of a bookworm as she was.

“One more for my tally,” a voice said. If Mickey hadn't lived through quite a few strange things since meeting the Doctor, that would have freaked him out. Now he just took a psychic Hat in stride.

“Hmm, ok. You are a brave man now, even if you weren't always. But stronger than your bravery is your loyalty, and you hare not afraid to toil if you feel the task is worthy. HUFFLEPUFF!”

Yeah, ok. He could live with that.

***

She'd waited for just the right moment. On the platform and in the antechamber she'd kept out of their sight. What could she say... she always had enjoyed making an entrance. She timed it just right when she sidled up to one of the few remaining students, leaned close to him, and whispered, “Hi, Dad!” 

His head turned so fast she was afraid he'd get whiplash, just as professor McGonagall called “Song, River” to the front. She grinned. Mission accomplished. Just before sitting down, she noted the faces showing recognition of the name. All expected, since she could remember not only her lifetime and her death, but also her afterlife, spent with a little girl in a library, except for the times she'd made psychic contact with Vastra, when she was needed.

All she heard when the Hat sat on her wild head of curls was a mad giggling, before it yelled, “SLYTHERIN!” She smiled wickedly when she put the Hat back on the stool, sauntered over and sat down opposite a familiar redhead. “Clara, dear, how are you?” she said to one side, then to the other side, “Jack, long time no see... you still owe me for Helladon Five.” And finally, looking straight ahead, a soft smile took over. “Hello, mum.”

Amy didn't answer, but her eyes looked suspiciously moist, and as Clara next to her mouthed 'mum?' she grabbed River's hand and squeezed.

***

After Thomas went to Gryffindor and Turpin to Ravenclaw, 'Tyler, Rose' had her turn. After her, there were only three more students to be Sorted.

“Nearly done, nearly done, nearly done,” a voice sounded.

“Hello?” she thought.

“Ah! I'm already on your head? Dear me, you lot have driven me to distraction! What a year this is going to be! Alright, here we go. Yes, yes... I should think the house for you is GRYFFINDOR!”

Rose quickly sat down next to Donna, grinning at her. “Phew,” she said. “What's that hat's problem?”

Donna grinned back at her. “I don't know about you, but in my case it complained about me having too many memories.”

***

'Weasley, Ron' went to Gryffindor, and then finally, after what felt like ages (with a bit of a surprise at the end there), it was 'Williams, Rory'.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” someone said into his ear, and then giggled. “Before I Sort you, I will tell you...I counted fourteen. I was rather put out in the beginning, but you know what? I think this is going to be a spectacular year! I will very much enjoy watching it unfold – once I get rid of this dratted headache you lot have given me!”

“Oh, uhm... Sorry?” Rory answered, not sure what else he could say to that.

“Don't worry about it, not your fault. Or, not just your fault, anyway. Let me see... Oh! I know where to put you. HUFFLEPUFF!”

***

And then, with 'Zabini, Blaise' going to Slytherin, everybody had been Sorted, and the Feast could begin. It was the start of a year such as Hogwarts had never seen before, to be talked about for many years to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figuring out who knows who...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, here's another chapter. I'll probably write more, but updates will be sporadic at best, since I'm working on another (slightly more serious) fanfic too.
> 
> Story is unbetaed, any mistakes are my own.

After the Feast, when everyone had been brought to their common rooms, the four Slytherins retreated to a secluded corner to talk.

“This is not very secure. I'm looking up how to get some privacy first thing tomorrow,” River said, “so let's not discuss anything too overt – like the exact nature of certain familial relationships. But am I correct in saying the connecting factor between the four of us is the Doctor? For you too, Jack? I remember you from my university days, but I hadn't connected you to him.”

“Yeah, I traveled with him for a while.”

“Which one? Sandshoes? The Chin?”

Jack laughed at her descriptive titles. “At first, the U-boat captain,” he answered her question, “then Sandshoes for a short time. The Chin dropped in from time to time, but I'd settled in Cardiff by then. I haven't seen anyone in a long time, though.”

“Alright, and Amy knew the Chin. Clara, last time I saw you, you were travelling with the Chin too, right?”

Clara nodded. “Yeah, and then... the Eyebrows.”

Amy looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

River patted her hand. “I'll explain when we're alone. Too many possible ears here.”

“We should also try to find out who else is here. I know there are a couple of people in some of the other houses, but I doubt I know everyone,” Jack said.

“Rory's here,” Amy supplied.

“So is Donna,” River added.

“Yes, and Rose, Mickey and Martha, those are all Sandshoes and Captain U-boat,” Jack continued. “That name is too long, by the way, I think I'll change it to the Ears,”

“I can't help,” Clara said. “The TAR...uhm... someone showed me a couple of pictures once, but I don't know any names.”

“Alright, so that's nine including us that we know about,” River said. “I suggest we go to sleep now, then tomorrow we check up on the people we know for sure. They might know others. We should probably also try and find somewhere to meet up, to make it easier, seeing how we can't visit each other's common rooms.”

They agreed to split forces. Jack and River would hit the library to look for any sort of privacy spell, while Clara and Amy would look for a place where they could meet up with any other time travellers.

***

The following morning at breakfast, there was a flurry of activity Hogwarts was not quite used to seeing, at least not from first-years. Usually the youngest students tended to stick to their own houses, either because they didn't know anyone from the other houses, or because they were unsure how welcome they'd be at another table.

River and Amy went from the Slytherin table to Hufflepuff to say hi to Rory, and tell him about their attempt to corral all time travellers together after classes. Jack went with them, but instead of Rory he aimed for Mickey.

“Mickey Mouse!” he said with a wide grin.

Mickey grinned right back. “Captain Cheesecake! And you don't get to call yourself Beefcake this time, so there!” They hugged, ignoring the looks of the locals, who were not used to boys showing that much affection.

“Come on,” Jack said, “lets go talk to Rose, Donna and Martha. First stop, Ravenclaw!”

The two of them went over to check on Martha and how she'd survived her first night in a strange bed, before taking her with them to the next table. They chatted with Rose and Donna for a while, letting everyone know about the get-together but otherwise keeping references to the Doctor to a minimum. 

They didn't pay much attention to the trio sitting a bit further down the table, even though two of them were not eating with their own house. Until, that is, Jack Harkness was preparing to return to Slytherin, at which point one of the three called out to him.

“Oi, Harkness!” the whitest of the three yelled, jerking his head in a request to come over. 

He did, with a polite but reserved smile on his face. “Yes? What can I help you with?”

The darker-skinned girl took over. “We were just wondering... you are not by any chance Captain Jack Harkness, are you?”

Jack turned serious as he sat down next to the black boy, who was the only one of the three to be sitting on his side of the table.

“That depends... where do you know that title from?”

“So... that means yes,” the boy next to him said. “Short answer, the Doctor. You scooped us up a while ago, gave us a warning, then popped off. Ringing any bells?”

“Wait... Silver Fox, the mouthy one and Not the Doctor?” Jack's smile returned, this time turned up to eleven. “That was the business with the Lone Cyberman, wasn't it? That's quite a while ago.”

“Not that long ago. The Lone Cyberman was defeated a couple of months ago. The Master was involved, but we don't know what happened to the Doctor afterwards.”

Jack closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply at the mention of the Doctor's nemesis, who had kept him prisoner and killed him in increasingly sadistic ways. He still had nightmares about that year. He kept his thoughts to himself though – these three didn't know his personal history with the Master, and now was not the time to expound on that.

“Alright, well. There's more of us here, maybe we can find someone who does know. We're getting together after classes, I'll let you know where as soon as I can.”

Just as Jack was preparing to get up, a fifth-year with red hair addressed him. “Excuse me, young man, but I believe you are sitting at the wrong table. Slytherin is over there,” he said pompously, pointing to the other side of the Great Hall. 

Jack looked from him to Yaz and Graham, who were likewise wearing the wrong colour tie, silently challenging him to say something about them, but nothing was forthcoming. Jack snorted.

“Ok then. What's your name?”

“I am Percy Weasley, fifth-year prefect.”

“Alright, Percy Weasley. I will move to the Slytherin table... just as soon as you show me where in the rules it is stated we're not allowed to eat with our friends.”

He turned his back and demonstratively remained seated, even though he'd been getting up just a moment ago. All four of them ignored the spluttering prefect, although Jack did wink at two identical boys sitting nearby, who were grinning widely and giving him two thumbs-up.

River, in the meantime, had left her parents sitting at the Hufflepuff table to saunter over to Ravenclaw, where Clara was already chatting with Bill. She slid into place between Bill and her bald friend. “Well, look here, if it isn't Nardole. That's a new look for you... very human!”

Nardole, to his credit, didn't let her sudden appearance faze him. He'd seen her Sorting, so he knew she was here, he just didn't know how much she remembered from her other life. The fact that she knew him was a good sign for Darillium, but how much beyond that? She'd left him with strict instructions to take care of the Doctor – and kick his arse if needed – but then she'd gone on to another adventure, looking barely older than when their night on Darillium had started. So at which point had she crossed over to this world?

“Hello, River. Yes, it's an adjustment, alright. All my bits are made from the same stuff!”

River laughed softly, before informing him about the meeting in the evening. She stood up at the same time as Clara, who looked between River and Nardole with narrowed eyes. River winked at her. “You and Nardole have a common acquaintance, Clara. You should compare notes tonight. Come on, they're handing out our schedule.”

Bill watched Clara and River move to the Slytherin table, before turning to Nardole. “Who was she? Did she know the Doctor too?”

Nardole laughed. “You could say that. Remember how the Doctor was all mopey when you first met him? Well, she was the reason. She's his wife.”

“Ha!” Bill crowed triumphantly, “I knew he was married! He never did give me a straight answer about that!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potions class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! I wrote another little chapter! As a reminder, this story is not meant to be taken too seriously ;)

That evening after dinner, the time travellers gathered in an abandoned-looking classroom that Amy and Clara had found during lunch. Hogwarts was a big castle, and there weren't that many students attending, so they'd figured there would be several such rooms. They were happy enough with the first one they found, although if these meetings became a regular occurence they might look for a better one at some point.

In the course of the evening they each introduced themselves, and figured out more or less where on the Doctor's relative timeline they were all situated – easier for some than others. They agreed to try and keep discussions of the Doctor to a minimum, at least where other people could overhear, although everyone would be on the lookout for more of those privacy charms. 

They also agreed that they'd stay in school for the time being. Everyone was curious what kind of force might have brought them here, and for what reason, but in order to try and solve that mystery they would need to know more magic than they currently did. Besides, nobody would take a bunch of 11-year-olds seriously, they were fairly sure, so they'd get some growing in before tackling that problem.

This agreement caused mixed feelings in the company. On the one hand there were those people who could remember a life that they were still living, such as Rose and the Fam, and they felt a little anxious about not returning to their lives. On the other were the people who remembered their deaths, or the last moment before their deaths, and if anything they were grateful for a new lease of life. Still, however they might feel about their current situation, there was not a lot they could do about it right now, so they all determined to make the best of it.

Classes in their first weeks were... not too exciting, for the most part. They guessed they should crawl before they could walk, but the lessons were so obviously geared towards 11-year-olds it wasn't even funny. Every evening they would come together, either in the same room as their first night or in the library, and teach each other their lessons of the day, after which they would look up similar spells or charms or jinxes, or they would ask sympathetic older students for instructions. They used the classes as practice time whenever possible.

There was one class that showed a spark of excitement on the very first day, and not in a good way. That class was Potions for the combined Slytherin and Gryffindor classes. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had already told them the lesson was little more than following the instructions written on the blackboard, although they found out those differed slightly from the ones written in their textbook, and they weren't sure why.

They would brew both versions in the weekend so they could compare. Clara had agreed to copy Snape's version before she started her own potion.

However, before she could do that, Snape took the roll call, and when he reached one certain name, he paused.

“Harry Potter,” he said softly. “Our new celebrity.”

The tone of his voice was enough to make the time travellers in both houses glance at each other. Soon after, the professor peppered the poor boy with questions, to all of which he had to plead ignorance. By the time he was done, the bully-flag had been raised in all of their minds. Even if you were supposed to know the answer to all of those questions, there was no reason to single out one person like that. What could professor Snape possibly have against an 11-year-old?

Then they did receive the anticipated instructions. They were working in pairs, so Clara copied the recipe while River started brewing. For a while the only sounds were of the students brewing and Snape alternately berating the Gryffindors and praising the Slytherins. He seemed unsure what to do about the mixed tables, so he mostly left Jack and Rose at one cauldron and Amy and Donna at another alone.

Before the lesson was done, one of the Gryffindors, a pudgy boy with a nervous air about him, managed to melt the cauldron he was working at, getting splashed with his concoction in the process. After he'd left for the hospital wing, Snape managed to blame Harry for the fiasco. Several eyebrows rose as high as they would go when they heard that.

That evening, the Companions (as they'd taken to calling themselves) discussed what to do about the potion master's bullying ways.

They decided on a couple of things. Pranking had been discussed, but ultimately dismissed as unlikely to be helpful. Instead, the Gryffindors would be lodging a complaint with their Head of House, who was also the deputy headmistress. Also, if he refused to teach them useful things such as basic safety precautions and what to do if something went wrong like it had in class, they'd force him to by asking questions about anything they felt the class ought to know. 

There was one more component to their plan,, which they enacted the very next lesson. 

Just before they started walking towards the dungeons, Ryan and Rose took Harry aside, while Donna talked to Neville. They gave them both the same message: when they entered the classroom, there would be four Slytherins keeping a table for any Gryffindor that might want to partner with them. 

Ron, who had followed Harry, was suspicious. “Why would we sit with slimy snakes? They'd sabotage our potion first chance they get.”

Rose looked at him. “That... doesn't make any sense, because then they'd be sabotaging their own potion as well. Look, I can vouch for them, they're honestly great people and they want to help. Just give them a chance.”

“But you can't trust Slytherins!” Ron said heatedly.

“Ok, so don't trust them then. You weren't the target last week, were ya?” Ryan answered with a shrug. 

“Yeah, how about you let Harry make his own decision? You can always sit with another Gryffindor if our word is not enough for you. Honestly, it's not like we're asking him to sit next to Malfoy, is it? Harry, what do you say?”

Harry's shoulders hunched a little at the three pairs of eyes aimed at him.

“Why would they help me?” He asked quietly.

“Be...cause they agree that what Snape did last week was beyond the pale? Because a teacher shouldn't target a pupil like that? Neville is getting the same option as we speak, and if any other Gryf feels unfairly targeted, they'll get the same offer. Look, we don't even know if this is going to work. The idea is to keep his cutting remarks to a minimum, but chances are his dislike for you will outweigh his preference for Slytherins. The point is, they're willing to try, if you're willing to trust them.”

“You decide,” Ryan said as they reached the Potions classroom. When Harry entered, he immediately saw who Rose and Ryan had been talking about. His gaze went from a girl with a head of curls to rival Hermione's, to one with a short bobcut, to a boy with black hair and the bluest eyes he had ever seen, to another girl with long red hair. 

He looked at Rose, who nodded encouragingly at him. Taking a deep breath, he decided. Whatever happened, he didn't think it could get much worse than last week. He took the seat next to the boy, who shot him a wide smile.

“Well, hello there. I'm Jack Harkness. I believe you are Harry Potter?” 

“Uhm. Yes. Yes, I am.” He wondered for a moment if the boy knew that because of the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing, but Jack never once even glanced at his forehead in an attempt to see the famous scar, so that was refreshing. And of course he'd been in the class last week, when Snape had made such a fuss about his name.

Harry saw Neville following his lead, sitting down hesitantly next to the redhead in the last row. Rond had not, choosing to sit with Parvati rather than risk the Slytherins tricking him.

When Snape entered the classroom, he observed the new seating arrangement with pursed lips, but he didn't comment on it before he spelled the new instructions on the blackboard and told them to begin. 

The lesson was a bit better than last week's, for both Harry and Neville. Amy helped Neville calm down enough to pay attention to the order of the instructions, while in Harry's case, every time it looked like Snape might start insulting him or the other Gryffindors, there was someone with a question who interrupted his chain of thought. Usually it was one of the four snakes, but Rose, Donna and Ryan got in their fair share of questions. And by the end of the lesson they'd even inspired others in both houses to do the same, a consequence none of them had even foreseen. Snape looked like he had no idea what was happening, but he did answer.

The questions were insightful too, so the class even learned something from the answers. By the time the lesson was over, Harry was glad he'd taken the chance and trusted Rose and her friends. When Snape dismissed them, he smiled shyly at Jack. “Thanks,” he said.

Jack winked at him. “Anytime, bro.”

“You sound kind of American,” he remarked.

Neither of them noticed the speculative look Snape gave them as they cleaned their work station and left the dungeons, talking about Jack's accent.


End file.
